


Empire

by SubwayWolf



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Annoying Affection, Bad Dreams, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Implied Jaime/Oberyn, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Secret Relationship, The Fluffiest Thing I Could Muster, Threesome Foreplay, Willas Attempts to Get Kinky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 22:11:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2557565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubwayWolf/pseuds/SubwayWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oberyn and Willas in the morning, the time of day during which Willas is not his usual subdued self and Oberyn is frankly amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empire

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was almost a Theon/Robb fic but I made a last-minute choice. A good one, at that. This might be the fluffiest thing I've ever written. I don't really know who to blame for that.

Before the dull pressure of light could pass the burgundy curtains on the window, Oberyn was awake. Willas lying before him, facing the same wall, his back angled in to fit perfectly in the crease Oberyn’s body made for him. Willas was as naked as his name day, while Oberyn was clad only in torso armor. Willas’ sweaty skin stuck to Oberyn’s cool, black armor, and Oberyn pulled him closer. He liked how attached they were, bound by sweat and steel. 

Heat flushed up to Oberyn’s face as Willas shifted in his position, angling his arse towards Oberyn. He could feel the aching threat of an erection as he pressed himself against Willas’ naked backside. “Willas,” Oberyn whispered breathlessly, desperately. “Wake up.”

“I’m awake.” Willas’ voice was dark, cold, but his body was warm nonetheless. “I dreamed of you,” he noted. Willas was scared easily, Oberyn knew. He was a man grown, but he had no taste for battle and had the demeanor and face of a much younger boy, despite the wispy, short-cut beard on his face.

Oberyn buried his nose into Willas’ rumpled hair and tightened his grip. “Was it very bad?”

Willas swallowed. “You died,” he said softly. “I killed you.” The dreams in Willas’ unconscious were never pretty sights. They often woke Willas up in the night, his heart racing and sweat glistening all over him. These were times where Oberyn had to fuck him to make him feel better; to make sure Willas would not feel embarrassed from the tears that would well up in his eyes. Oberyn never spoke of the times he saw Willas cry, and Willas promised the same of when he saw Oberyn well up. 

Oberyn could not help but to bury his nose in Willas’ hair again, sniffing it. Willas had apologized earlier for failing to clean himself up for Oberyn, but Oberyn did not mind. In fact, he preferred Willas with blood on his hands and a laugh upon his lips, but he did not say that, he only kissed him on the back of the head. Curious, Oberyn spoke softly. “How did you kill me?”

Shifting his body weight, Willas flipped over so he faced Oberyn. Oberyn loved to see Willas’ face. Willas’ lips were soft and pink, warm and kissable, but the dark, quiet words that passed them did not easily convey emotion as well as those eyes did. Willas had rich brown, curly and thick to match the hair under his arms and between his white legs, and Oberyn loved it. Willas was one of surprisingly few men he had been with that were not from Dorne and not from Essos. He might not have been the most rambunctious or daring in bed, but Oberyn considered him one of his favorites. Sometimes affection was better than excitement. Willas was capable of both, the latter almost laughably so. Oberyn wondered if he loved him.

At this moment, Willas’ eyes were red, and it was not certain whether this was from lack of sleep or from hot tears. “I gutted you. Shoved my shortsword through your abdomen, and then cut upwards. Everything inside of you poured out at my feet.” Willas swallowed. “But you begged me to do it. You wanted to die.”

Oberyn half-smiled. “One day, perhaps I did,” he said calmly. “Long ago, after the rebellion, when the faces of my sister, niece, and nephew would haunt my dreams at night.” Oberyn refused to admit that they still did appear in his dreams, though now accompanied by those who deserved to die in their place. “And the way people would look at me, terrified I would slice through anything in sight. I did consider shoving a sword through my chest, but I would have had the courage to do it myself.” Oberyn’s eyes faltered. “Then I met you. If anything, you took the sword out of my stomach, you did not put it there.” A short pause settled. “Remember what happened after that tourney, that first night we spoke to each other?”

Willas flushed, a smile long gone. He had placed a hand upon Oberyn’s chest, pressing his fingers against the silver armor that covered it. “When I was in the maester’s chambers and refused to leave my bedside even though you hardly knew me?”

The memory never failed to make Oberyn smile, and he did. “Not that night. The next one.” Oberyn forced his smile to go away, but it did not leave his eyes. “When you… __forgave me.” The memory rang between his ears at night. “You saved my life when you did. Your dream is a fallacy, an ironic reflection of reality.”

Furrowing his brow, Willas seemed confused. He paused for a moment, in deep thought. “Why does it make me sad, then?” Oberyn disliked when Willas felt that way, and thought of the possible solutions. An image flashed into Oberyn’s head, a picture of Willas at his happiest. Willas’ eyes were shining as he read poetry to Oberyn for the first time, hand-written upon stationary bound in brown leather. It was years ago when Oberyn came to visit Highgarden for the first time. They were deep in the gardens, surrounded by the pleasant, dusky scent of flowers, the sun shining down on them from its unimaginable distance, wispy clouds shading them from its ceaseless heat. He remembered the pure elation in Willas’ eyes as Oberyn unlaced his pants and tasted him for that very first time. He recalled how Willas came with a shudder, and his trembling hands caused him to slip, dropping the pocketbook to a bed of flowers below. Oberyn could not help it but to fuck him there atop fully-bloomed goldencups and olive-colored weeds, and Willas came again, whispering Oberyn’s name as his body convulsed and shuddered with pleasure.

Oberyn’s cock was stiff, and it pressed against Willas’ thigh. “I wish you weren’t sad,” he said, trying to ignore it. Willas noticed and smiled, but said nothing. “I know you sent ravens, Willas. Did the letters I sent reach you? I tried my best to be discreet.”

“Yes, they reached me,” Willas recalled. He kissed Oberyn, soft and quick, on the lips. “I’m glad your connections come in handy,” he said before kissing him again, “Gods, if my father found out about you...” When Willas kissed him once more, Oberyn grabbed him by the back of the neck and kept him there for longer, savoring the taste. Willas managed to pull away despite Oberyn’s coaxing. “What would he say?”

Raising an eyebrow, Oberyn pointed out, “We could end the tension between our houses at last.” Oberyn’s cock was still stiff between his legs. “Your father just might like that idea,” Oberyn noted. “My brother sure would.”

Willas smiled curiously. “Lord Mace would only take that offer if you were the heir to your house, as I am to mine. Unfortunately, you are no heir. Only a second son, a prince.” 

“Funny,” Oberyn remarked. He leaned over and planted a long kiss on Willas’ tragic lips. Oberyn’s hard cock throbbed. 

Willas leaned towards Oberyn, but did not kiss him. He pursed his lips. “That did not sound genuine.”

“It wasn’t genuine,” he smirked. "But I'll have you know, we do things much differently in Dorne. Family is important, but found family has a depth which resonates just as much. You know that for yourself."

Willas was very much aware.

* * *

Willas Tyrell had never been kissed before. 

At least it seemed that way. Back home, the kisses he’d received were rough and hard and made Willas’ lips sore. Those amateurs has included teeth in his kisses, unintentionally. Their teeth would clash together and scrape against each other until Willas had to push them away just to end the terrible sensation. 

So naturally Willas always wondered what the fuss was all about, or why Garlan was so excited that day that he first kissed a girl, because it did not seem to be as enjoyable of an act as everyone said it was.

But it was and enjoyable act, certainly. Though Willas had never known it. Until he met Oberyn Martell.

It dumbfounded him. Oberyn’s lips were soft and warm and wet, not dry and thick. He sucked on Willas’ lips gently – Willas must have looked like a fool, not knowing what to do, pursing his lips dumbly and relaxing against the Prince’s face. Oberyn passed his tongue between Willas’ lips as they gradually parted and Willas was startled but he mimicked what was being done to him and let his eyes close. The sensation of a tongue pressing up against his own was exhilarating and significantly more enjoyable than teeth. Willas forgot to breathe but then could not breathe until Oberyn pulled his lips away so they could both inhale.

Best of all, it was like that every single time, whether it was the first time or the hundredth time.

It was even nice this time, even though Ellaria Sand was with them, sitting on the bed, observing them with her interest peaked and her hands folded patiently on her lap. Willias knew he was being watched and it made him more nervous than usual despite Oberyn assuring him everything was fine.

After parting their kiss, Oberyn leered at Willas with droopy eyes. “So many months we have been meeting. And still it is as if you are new to this,” he observed. His lips were parted and wet.

Willas’ chest heaved. “I’m sorry,” he said, and swallowed the excess saliva in his mouth. He felt his cock beginning to harden. He ached for Oberyn to touch him.

“You do not have to be sorry,” the prince sighed. “It’s your nerves, not your talent.” The surcoat Oberyn was wearing was yellow trimmed with orange lace and it was not buttoned. Willas looked over the trail of tanned skin visible down the prince’s torso, stopping just short of his bellybutton. “Take off your clothes.”

Ellaria had dark eyes lined with dark coloring which reminded Willas of charcoal. “Would you like to join us?” She lied flat down on the bed and after a moment Oberyn sat down and was lying beside her, kissing her exposed, sun-bronzed shoulder.

Willas’ throat was dry. He met Oberyn’s eyes and then Ellaria’s. “Yes, my lady.” He swallowed air. “My lord.”

The woman’s dark lips upturned in a smile. “I am not a Lady,” she said through the grin. She began to unfasten the buttons on the back of her dress. Her skin was sun-kissed all over, Willas saw. He leered too long at her breasts, firm and small, and he felt his cock throb.

Oberyn sat up and looked across the room at Willas. “Look at him. The boy is terrified.” He reached a hand out to Willas. Willas hesitated a moment before he took it. Oberyn’s hands were warm and deft as they pulled Willas close to the bed and began to undo the laces of his trousers, revealing a cock that was already pressing against the flimsy white cloth of his smallclothes. “Let him call us whatever he likes.”

The artery in Willas’ neck was pounding. He looked between Ellaria and Oberyn frantically, not sure who to pay attention to. “I don’t know what to do,” he said quietly, like a frightened child learning histories.

A serpentine grin upturned Oberyn’s lips. “Then we will teach you.”

* * *

It was nice to have such memories of Dorne - memories of Oberyn, and passion, and love. Memories Willas prayed to the gods he would never have to endure forgetting in old age. They kept him warm at night when Oberyn was away.

He was here now. Oberyn let his lips graze against the skin between Willas’ eyes. “Although I’m no heir and we will never wed, I can still claim my rights as it please me.” Oberyn took him into his arms, sharing body heat with him. He kissed Willas once again, this time on the cheek, letting his aching cock graze along Tyrell’s thigh. 

For a moment, Willas’ breathing stopped. His muscles relaxed, and he was malleable. Willas said, “I can’t say I understand,” though he understood very well what his lover meant. His cheeks were pink and eager. Putting his hands on Oberyn’s shoulders, Willas looked into Oberyn’s eyes. Willas did not need to speak, only smiled.

Looking down at him, Oberyn could not resist him much longer. He ached for release. Diving close to him again, Oberyn kissed him on the neck. “Fuck me, Willas,” Oberyn breathed into his hair when he pulled his lips away. 

Willas raised an eyebrow. The fear instilled in him from his dream was long gone. “Am I missing the pretext?” Willas had a talent of refusing Oberyn, for waiting as long as possible until he knew Oberyn was fraught. Pleased with what was to come, Willas rocked his body against Oberyn’s and let his eyes close.

Oberyn did not give him the gratification of appearing anxious or desperate. “Since when does pretext matter to you?” Oberyn grazed his lips over Willas’ eyelids, planting soft kisses. “Your father isn’t around, Lady Olenna isn’t around… and it’s been so, so long. I haven’t gotten to take you in three years.” 

Willas was annoyingly forcing himself to stay stagnant, to not relax into the kisses. “Don’t you remember?” He sat up in the bed and leered down at Oberyn, letting a hand graze over the tip of Oberyn’s aching cock. “Just last night, you kissed me in the dark like I was some back alley whore.”

“I never paid you,” Oberyn asserted, furrowing his brow. He sat up as well, and they faced each other.

Unfailing, Willas grinned. “Sure you did.” His lips upturned in a smile. “I’ve been waiting for you for three years. And you even held me afterwards.” Willas’ eyes were shining. “Does that not count?”

“No,” Oberyn asserted. “We finished in seconds.” Breathing, Oberyn snuck a kiss on the corner of Willas’ mouth, and Tyrell’s eyelids fell again. “I want it to last longer. I want it to be a contest.” Oberyn shuddered, aching. He let his nose graze through the wiry hairs of Willas’ beard. “I want to hear you whimper and whine. I think about it when I touch myself.”

Willas dared to laugh. His eyes closed halfway. 

Oberyn bared teeth. “Don’t laugh at me,” he commanded. “You have the luxury of having the ability to wait, to save yourself. You don’t need this like I do.”

“If you visited the Reach more often, you could share the luxury with me. Besides,” Willas’ hand grabbed Oberyn by the jaw, “You belong to me.” He pulled Oberyn closer, whispering. “You aren’t allowed to fuck anyone else without my permission.”

Raising an eyebrow, Oberyn tried to contain his shock. Willas only occasionally exhibited such audacity, when he ached for Oberyn very badly. Oberyn took advantage of the situation as he always did. Words started to pass his lips unrestrained. “I’ve fucked dozens of men and women alike. I’ve been with lords and ladies, commoners and servants, and whores aplenty.” A few of them had been whores that looked rather similar to Willas, but Oberyn did not want to give him that gratification. “I even fucked Jaime Lannister. The Kingslayer. He was drunk and he asked for it. He begged,” Oberyn mused, stroking his cock slowly so Willas could watch. It made Oberyn happy to watch Willas blush in anger and release his face. “Are __you going to beg for it?”

“Do I ever?” Willas ran his fingers up the inside of Oberyn’s thigh, but dared to stop short.

Oberyn leered at him. “You always do.” Oberyn rose to his knees. He put a hand on Willas’ chest, ready to force him downwards if necessary. “Bend over.”

Willas flushed. He did not like that. He opened his mouth but hesitated to speak. “No. I won’t.”

“Oh,” Oberyn nearly laughed. “You say that, but you’ll end up on your stomach, whining and moaning my name as you always do.” Looking Willas over, looking at his rumpled hair and his pink cheeks, it was causing Oberyn to quickly grow impatient. “Bend over.”

Still not keen on the idea, Willas scooted back on the bed to be further away. “No,” he asserted, “You bend over.” The words almost sounded desperate.

Half-closing his eyes, Oberyn smiled down his nose at Willas. “Since when do you like being the dominant one?”

Willas positioned himself on all fours and began to encroach Oberyn. “Since __you like being dominated.” Oberyn could have laughed. Willas was nearing him, and Oberyn leaned back, allowing him to. Willas’ smile was deft and wild. He climbed over Oberyn, looking down at him with those warm eyes, his cock hard between his legs. “I won’t hear you deny it.”

Fidgeting beneath him, Oberyn ached terribly. “You have it all wrong,” he said, his voice growing as impatient as his cock. With a shove, he pushed Willas off of him, and Willas landed back into the bed. “That’s what you like. You like it when I stuff your arse and fill you up until you leak and shudder.” Oberyn climbed upon him, kneeling between his spread legs. “Perhaps this time, I’ll taste your hole and see just how sweet I taste.” Willas fidgeted under Oberyn’s gaze. “Would you like that?” When Willas took too long to answer, Oberyn placed his hands on Tyrell’s slim hips as he pinned him to the bed. “Perhaps I will shove my fingers up one at a time, to spread you apart and massage you from the inside. I’ll wait until you beg for more, but I won’t give it to you, and you will whimper and beg my name. I will fill you up with my seed and then I will lick you clean.” Oberyn watched eagerly as Willas licked his lips. “That is your favorite, yes?” Willas bit his lip, while a dark laugh passed Oberyn’s lips. He knew how sharp his manipulation skills were. “See? I know how you like it.”

The exchanges of dominance were only making both men ache with anticipation. Their frustration was showing in their eyes. “Do it, then,” Willas begged. He had not wanted to give that gratification to Oberyn, but realized there was no point in fighting. “I’ll scream your name until my eyes roll back into my head.” Willas’ eyes were hungry. “Kiss me, Prince Oberyn.”

Unwilling to protest or lash out at the name, Willas leaned over and met Oberyn in a kiss. Their lips pressed against each other and moved fluidly. Kissing Willas made Oberyn feel as if he could not breathe, and he wanted to strip the armor off his chest, but did not. He attained the discipline to pause. Oberyn put a hand between them and separated the contact. 

Dutifully, Willas did not protest. Oberyn was patiently gazing at him, admiring the darkness of his own skin as compared to the pale white of Willas’. Quiet, Willas furrowed his brow. Oberyn could not read him and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Willas hesitated to think for only a moment. His eyes seared into Oberyn’s. “Suck me off.”

“No,” Oberyn said quickly, coolly. He broke into a smile. “Unless you beg me.”

Willas spread his legs. His erection was firm up beneath the sheets they had slept in. “Beg you? I’m commanding you.” Oberyn could feel the heat of anticipation rushing through Willas’ veins as he touched him. “Do it.” He nearly, so __nearly said please, but somehow Willas refrained. Oberyn was impressed, so he obliged.

Oberyn slipped the sheets down past Willas’ waist, revealing his hot erection amidst a bed of curly, brown pubes. Willas’ cock was red with eager frustration. Oberyn placed quick, fleeting kisses up the inside of Willas’ white thighs. After a moment, he looked up to him and pulled his lips back. “Warn me before you finish.” Oberyn paused for half of a second. “And if you mess my hair, you’ll regret it.” 

A lack of a protest on Willas’ part meant he would obey, so Oberyn went to work. Oberyn met Willas’ eyes as he ran his tongue up the length of his cock, slowly. At first he only allowed himself to taste the tip of Willas’ length, running his tongue along the top of it for a few moments. Willas shuddered as Oberyn began to slide his mouth down Willas’ cock, wetting it with warm saliva. Oberyn loved the warmth, the salty taste. Oberyn took it all at once into his mouth, letting the tip graze along the very end of the roof of his mouth and slide into the back of his throat. Against his will, Willas let out a whimper, signaling he was already about to come. At that moment, Oberyn removed his mouth and backed away.

Eyes shooting open, Willas was too stunned to say anything. His face twisted into anger.

“You gave it away,” Oberyn said, sighing. He wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand. “And you didn’t beg.”

Willas’ cheeks were flushed red. “Finish me,” he pleaded, “Touch me. Please.” 

It was hard for Oberyn to stop a smile spreading across his face. He raised an eyebrow, taking his own cock into one hand to relieve some of the pressure. “What do I get in return?”

Fidgeting anxiously, Willas’ voice was nothing short of desperate. “Anything,” he said weakly. “I’ll spread my legs for you and whimper and beg. I’ll lick your hole. I’ll stuff my cock in you, if you like.” Willas almost raised a hand to touch himself to relieve the ache, but he was sick of that. He wanted Oberyn. “Please,” Willas whimpered, “touch me.” Without warning, Willas leaned over to kiss Oberyn, long and full, on the lips. He closed his eyes tightly. “Please, Oberyn,” he whispered between kisses. He pressed his body against Oberyn’s armored chest. “Please never leave this bed.”

But hours later, Oberyn did have to leave the bed. He had to dress himself in his orange surcoat and his pale yellow cloak, and Willas had to dress himself in green and gold. Such different colors for such different people. But they blended well. So well.


End file.
